Last Kiss Good Night
by Rebecca Hb
Summary: G1: Optimus Prime and Elita One take one last night together before the launch of the Ark.


**Last Kiss Good Night**

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He was going to leave her in the morning. He was going to leave their whole world to find the energy they needed to end the famine. That was the plan Optimus had explained to her before he told any of his other lieutenants. He had not asked her to go along with it. He had given her orders, because if he had let her say "don't do this," then he would have agreed. But Elita-1 knew how much was at stake, and no matter how her soul cried out that Optimus not leave her behind, she knew that he had to. Her personal feelings could not come before the future of the Transformers.

But that didn't mean she couldn't have him once more to herself before he set off.

Elita cornered him in an elevator at the top of Iacon, caught up his hands in hers and smiled. "Got a few minutes, soldier? I hear your commander is shipping you off to the ends of the galaxy."

Optimus chuckled and pulled her close to him, fingers intertwining with hers. "You've just taken a consort, Elita-1. I'm not sure we should see each other anymore."

"One last time, for old time's sake?" A winsome smile and a gentle tug was all it took to get him to lean down; she pressed a kiss against his mask, hooked one leg over his thigh.

"Elita..." He nuzzled her face, the growl of his engines intensifying until she could feel a gentle hum where her chest pressed against his. "We're going down. Someone else will want on the elevator."

She kissed his cheek and wriggled one hand free from their clasp. Her leg tightened around his thigh, toe rubbing lightly at the inside of his other knee, as she bent back and pressed the 'Hold' button. The elevator stopped moving.

Optimus chuckled and squeezed her hand as he drew her back upright. "That's one way of handling the problem." He raised his other hand to cup her cheek, and she stifled a gasp as his thumb brushed across her lips.

"Optimus..." Her lips parted gently, and he leaned down to press his mask against her mouth. His hand continued to cup her cheek only briefly, then skimmed up the side of her helm, and he gripped the base of one of her horns and gave it a gentle squeeze. She gasped at that and at his fingers teasing and tormenting her horn. Every touch left her systems tingling, and soon her own engine purred to life.

She pouted as he pulled back and left her wanting, some part of her still irritated that anyone could make her do that. But this was **Optimus**, her consort. Then she grinned and pushed him back against the wall of the elevator, half-climbing on top of him so she could kiss him. She'd always had the habit of it, and didn't see why she should stop just because he didn't have a mouth.

He snaked an arm around her waist, and she tightened her legs around his middle as one large blue hand rested possessively on her skidplate. Their chests ground together, engine vibrations coaxing unengaged gears to slowly turn inside their bodies. What started out as a pleasant hum of machinery evolved into deep, powerful thrums that excited their sensor-lines and wound them tighter and tighter.

They were so caught up in each other that they didn't even see the 'override' warning flash on the control panel or feel the elevator start moving again.

Nor did they hear the elevator doors swoosh open. In fact, what pulled them out of their tangle was Prowl sounding slightly scandalized. "Ah, stand down, troops."

Elita felt Optimus freeze underneath her as he tilted his head to look out from behind her, and she turned her head slowly to look. There, neatly framed in the doorway, stood Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe, slowly lowering their guns. Prowl looked professionally blank, while the other three grinned.

Metal scraped softly as Elita lowered her legs to stand upright on her own. She kept her arms wrapped around Optimus, however, feeling the sharp jitters in his energy fields. She didn't need to look up at him to know he was staring at Prowl.

The spinning gears in their bodies slowed as the vibration-energy faded.

Sideswipe opened his mouth. Perhaps to catcall or make a lewd joke, maybe even to say something innocent, but Elita's glare stopped him cold. Whatever he had to say would just add to Optimus's discomfort, she knew it. Her legs hid the inward bent of the truck's knees, the only physical sign of his absolute mortification.

"Don't you mechs have preparations for the voyage to make?" She asked frostily.

"Now, Elita-One, you know we gotta check when one of the elevators pulls something strange." Jazz grinned and spread his hands. "Coulda been we got a Decepticon infestation."

"Of course, and your response time is commendable, Jazz." Elita tried to smile, but from the way the twins both took a step back, she feared she hadn't succeeded very well. "Now, go away."

"Of course," Prowl said. "Right away. That means **now**, Sideswipe."

The sight of the four Transformers shuffling away was cut off as Elita stepped away from Optimus and pressed the door-close button. She stared at the closed doors, thoughts chasing themselves around under the surface of her mind. A few of them flashed to the surface like the golden robokoi in the Sea of Rust. Foolish femme. She should have known this would happen.

"What floor were you headed to before?" She asked.

"Elita..." Optimus stepped up behind her, one powerful arm going around her shoulders and his chin coming to rest on the top of her head. "The fourth floor, please. I think there's a little bit work of left in my office."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then. I need to check the status of our energy search."

Her knees buckled as he nuzzled one of her horns. "I'm sure Chromia can handle it, Elita."

"Oh... Yes. Of course she can." A smile curved her lips, and she reached around behind him to grip the blue trailer-hitch in the middle of his skidplate. "She's very capable, you know."

"... Office, Elita. Office."

**The End**


End file.
